


A Thousand Years

by Winterstar



Series: I would walk 500 miles [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Babies, Fluff, M/M, Superfamily, Superhusbands
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-16
Updated: 2014-07-16
Packaged: 2018-02-09 04:24:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1968972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Winterstar/pseuds/Winterstar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Family, hope, and loss....what does it mean to superheroes?</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Thousand Years

He only needs a moment, a quiet, unassuming moment when he can take in all the beauty that’s before him and imbibe it. He wants to swallow it down, savor it, love it, and bring it with him through all the horrors and fears and trepidation and the places in his heart that shadow dark and still. He wants to remember these moments as they should be – sacred and perfect.

He slips into the room, trying not to make a noise, but he knows Steve will hear. But he doesn’t move, doesn’t react to Tony standing only a few meters away from him. He’s doing exactly and precisely what he should be doing, attending to his newest love.

Does it hurt that Steve’s in love? That his heart and soul has been swept away? Tony smiles and realizes it does not, how could it?

“You’re back,” Steve says in a soft voice. He never knew how tender Steve’s voice could be until they transformed their lives, until it became a necessity. Steve doesn’t turn around from his seat in the rocking chair as he looks out at the broad twinkling cityscape beyond the large windows in the middle of the night.

“Just got in,” Tony says and stuffs his hands in his pockets. “Wanted to check on you, see if everything went okay?”

Steve peers up and over his shoulder at Tony, his eyes glitter like sunlight, his smile could rocket Tony to the moon and back again. “Did you worry?” He’s teasing, Tony knows.

Still he ambles into the room, and tilts his head as he says, “Should I be worried?”

“I don’t think,” Steve says but keeps his voice down and he turns his attention back to the bundle in his arms. Every time Tony sees Steve with their daughter, he touches the wedding band on his ring finger – just to make sure – just to feel the reality of his life.

“You dealt with all the midnight wake ups with no problem?”

“Midnight, two am, three, four,” Steve says and rocks the chair as the little babe in his arms slumbers.

“She’s grown so much,” Tony says and it aches deep inside. He wants to watch his daughter grow and thrive, but at the same time he yearns to make it last. 

“Going to the doctor tomorrow for her four month checkup,” Steve says. “She’s nearly double her birth weight, I swear.”

“She should be, she drinks like Thor,” Tony says and places a gentle hand on his daughter’s brow. 

“She’s stunning,” Steve says. “I’m glad you’re the dad.”

“You’re her Papa,” Tony says. It still stabs inside, a deep and present pain when he thinks of their appointments at the fertility clinic. Steve had refused to be the genetic father. He wouldn’t risk any child having his natural maladies and no one at the clinic could assure them that the serum wouldn’t be an issue in reproduction. 

Tony had protested; he desperately wanted Steve as the genetic father, but his good old Captain America stubbornness came through and he refused to budge. Tony hated to think of passing on the genes he bore. Addiction is not a pretty gift for his progeny.

“Yes, but she’s beautiful because of you, Tony,” Steve says and something hitches inside Tony’s soul. 

“Come, put her down, let’s go to bed,” Tony whispers and cards a hand through Steve’s hair and down to the nape of his neck.

“Okay,” Steve replies and carefully brings the baby to the crib. He places her lightly into the crib, cooing just enough to keep her sleeping. He checks the baby monitor, something he insisted on even after Tony reminded him of JARVIS (secretly Tony wonders if JARVIS is insulted). 

Tony trails a hand down Steve’s arm and then tangles his fingers into his hand. “Come.”

Steve follows, but glances backward several times. When they get into their room and settle into bed, clothes stripped down to their boxers and t-shirts, Tony curls into Steve’s chest and says, “You really love her.”

“How could I not, she’s part of you,” Steve says. 

“We could try for number two with your-.”

“No,” Steve says and closes the door on the conversation. Tony physically feels the chill in his words.

Getting up and perching on his elbows, Tony says, “Modern medicine could deal with anything that your natural genes might throw at us.”

Steve doesn’t look at him. “And if it can’t?”

“We’ll deal.”

“And what if the serum causes some strange mutation?” 

“Well have you seen the cool things Magneto can do?”

“He’s a maniac,” Steve says.

“Okay, not a good example. How about Charles or Storm?” Tony says. He’s not getting anywhere with this line of reasoning so he switches gears. “You love Margaret, right?”

“Of course, but not only because she looks like you, Tony, but because she’s part of us. She’s a symbol of us. And she’s her own little person, already,” Steve says and he smiles fondly and, with clear devotion.

“I know that, I understand all of that, but-,” Tony stops and then starts again. “Okay, I want a child with you, with your DNA, I want to know your DNA will go on, I want to know that you’ll have that part of immortality.”

“That’s – that’s-.”

“Don’t say it’s ridiculous, because it might be to you, but you don’t know. You can’t know how it feels to know that I have my DNA going on, part of me going on and you don’t.” Tony flops down on the bed. “I can’t explain it.”

“I get it,” Steve says after a moment’s pause. “Nature verses nurture. I’ve read theories, even before we decided. I knew I wanted Margaret to have your DNA before we even went to the clinic.”

“Because of the serum or because of your illnesses?”

“No,” Steve says, and his eyes gloss over until Tony realizes silent tears stream down his face, wetting the pillow. “No, not at all.”

“Why?” Tony never wants to hurt Steve, they hurt one another enough during the first year of their friendship before it turned and transformed into something more, something shining, something worth it.

Steve turns his face and stares out the window. Tony adjusts in the bed and watches him. 

“I don’t want to be alone, I don’t want to lose you,” Steve says and it pierces like thorns.

“You’re not going t-.”

“Unless I get killed, I will,” Steve says. “And I need-. I know it’s stupid and that Margaret isn’t you, will never be you, but I need to know that you will go on- that your brilliant, sassy genes will go on.”

He understands what Steve’s saying or not saying. He’s afraid of Tony dying and being left alone for years and years to come. No one understands Steve’s physiology, no one knows if he’ll age at the same rate as everyone else or if he’ll remain young for years to come. The thought is both gratifying to Tony and terrifying. How would he feel if he was left alone, with no one he loved still alive?

It strikes Tony then – that it is exactly what Steve’s already lived through once. The utter loss is profound. He doesn’t remark on it, and wraps his arm around Steve.

He remains silent for long minutes, feeling the inhalation and exhalation of Steve’s breathing next to him. It is like a song to him, beautiful and right but at the same time it recalls that he’s alive out of time and place. He sometimes forgets how much Steve has lost, how much he still mourns.

He places a kiss on Steve’s shoulder, and is rewarded with a light sigh of relief. He won’t challenge Steve again, not right away.

“Sir and Captain Rogers, Margaret is stirring,” JARVIS says and then the baby monitor picks up the tiny grunts of disapproval of being left alone from their daughter.

“Okay, thanks, JARVIS,” Steve says and climbs out of bed.

“You want me to do this, I can,” Tony says. “You’ve been dealing with her for the last week while I was on business.”

“No,” Steve says. “It’s okay. You must be beat. Get some sleep.”

Tony watches Steve pull on some sweats and head toward the door. Before he exits the room, Tony gets out of bed and grabs his own sweat pants from the drawer. “Wait for me.”

“Tony, you don-.”

“Yes, I do.” He reaches out and grasps Steve’s hand. “Yes, I do.”

THE END

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Two Step by the Dave Matthews Band
> 
> Follow me on [tumblr](http://winterstar95.tumblr.com)
> 
> Should I expand? Maybe someday, I don't know......


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